Ode to ODC Labeling

When we returned to the train station at the village closest to our rural home, we went to the supermarket to forage.  I forgot it was Friday afternoon until I saw the incredible check-out lines and tried to source a large cart unsuccessfully.  I didn’t mind it too much as there is so much there to look at and enjoy.  The cheese department alone is a great field trip for me.  The gorgonzolas, the buffalo mozzarellas, the pecorinos, the grana pandanos, and of course, the parm.  At the produce department there were lovely local/regional figs, peaches, donut peaches, nectarines, grapes, tomatoes, melons, all marked with a label that verified their geographic origin.  Italy has been down with this regional sourcing and labeling way before it was a thing anywhere else.  They have an excellent culinary “pride of place” that helps you travel around the country with your mouth, and know where you’ve been.  The food here is absolutely justifiably famous.  Being “kissed by the Tuscan Sun” really does give produce an other-worldly flavor.  I just walked by the reddest tomatoes I’ve ever seen here at a local small grocer.

All the menus in the restaurants focus on what is in season, and on only the best ingredients that ooze integrity.  For me, that’s always been the secret to good cooking, and here it’s a bit of a religion.  For example, there is a particular coffee drink here that is part coffee gelato and part ice that I don’t know the name of but I call it paradise.  A.S. of Iowa City would swoon, before she ordered a litre or two.  It’s found at some wine bars, and yesterday afternoon while waiting for the train Daughter #1 spied it and tried to order me a cup.  “It’s not good, really. Too late.” Assured the waitress and waited for an alternate order.  Fair enough, I thought.  Why drink second-rate stuff that they don’t even want to sell?

Italians have even made rules and regulations about what can be marked as “Chianti” wine, or “parmeggiano reggiano”, etc.  They have a system labeled D.O.C.  D.O.C is the acronym for Denominazione di origine controllata ("Controlled designation of origin") is a quality assurance label for Italian food products, especially wines and various cheeses (Denominazione di Origine Protetta). There are different levels of the labels but I don’t worry about that; the DOC tells me what I need to know.

Also, the restaurants take pride in having a menu that reflects their regional specialities, like the wild boar is here in Chianti, along with all the different Chianti wines.  You don’t see any cannoli here in Chianti/Tuscany on the menus, nor tortellini, which belongs to Emilia, (along with the fantastic Modena balsamics, the Parma Ham, and pasta and of course the parmiagno reggiano.)  In this way you are guaranteed to have the freshest and best of ingredients which are prepared as they have been prepared for centuries to great effect.  All in all, it’s a great food philosophy which all eaters benefit from. 

BTW, while writing this blog I was perusing a guide book and discovered the Emilia region is directly north of Tuscany, where we are camped, so I dreamed up a day trip to Ravenna to take in the Byzantine mosaics they are famous for, as well as a dinner stop in Bologna for some of the balsamics, parms, Parma Ham, and filled tortellini they are famous for.  I shall report back after our sojourn tomorrow.  This country is indeed a food lover’s paradise. See below for the ultimate grilled cheese made yours truly, featuring olive bread from Firenze's EATALY (yes, Mario has made his mark here, too!), along with mozzarella di Buffalo, using the rich butter from the Romagna region of Italy.  Bueno Appetito!

Under the Tuscan Sun….and Clouds

We’ve had 2 dramatic thunderstorms and we love the way they rumble through the valleys, provide the perfect sleeping sound, and refresh the already sparkling air.  This morning it rained for about an hour (politely after 2 members of the crew had just returned from a long hike) then out came the sun and dried up all the rain…in a matter of minutes, it seemed.  I just hung out a load of laundry (getting pretty used to this, on year 4 of no clothing dryer), and 30 minutes later about half of it was dry.  It’s hot in the sun here, as we have found out when trying to complete an ambitious schedule in Florence.  We have decided for our third day in Firenze (it sounds so much more fun in Italian, doesn’t it?) we are going to go in early again, but leave either before or just after lunch.  Those dog hours of 1:30-4:30 are too much for me and suck the life out of my bones.  The Italians call it “la pausa” and I intend to follow the suggestion from here forward. I respect those shopkeepers who close during those hours; no one needs to get their linens or bread or whatever when it’s too hot to think. 

Yesterday was another successful day in Firenze, with the Boboli Gardens up first, then the adjoining, massive Pitti Palace, where I thoroughly enjoyed the costume galleries, and liked some of the Palatine Gallery, but got overwhelmed quickly with the amount of space and art work displayed.  I tried to find one great work/room and focus on it a bit, and then check out the digs, which were where the Medici Family lived during their heyday in the renaissance.  I can’t imagine trying to find everyone in that palace for a meal; you could literally hide casually in any of several rooms and it would take days for someone to discover you. Pictures HERE.

Gelato count yesterday, well, who’s counting?  Let’s focus on the fantastic flavors:  coffee, chocolate, chocolate with candied orange peel (pic of the day) Grom’s “mix” (close second), peach (come to think of it, excellent as well) and finally passion fruit sorbet, which knocked my socks off.  In other words, no dogs, not even a mediocre in the bunch.  They are only small scoops, really.  Anyway, who’s counting?  There will NOT be this kind of gelato in China, certainly, or anywhere I’ve been in America, save one GROM shop in NYC in the lower east side.  I feel I am doing my duty by fully embracing the slogan of “eat locally”. 

Firenze: Day 1

Michelangelo's The Holy Family

Yesterday we went to Florence for the first time (except when we flew into the airport).  There aren't words for the level of cool that this city is.  So, let's see some photos!  Most of these are of the Uffizi, arguable the best Renaissance Museum in the world.  It was grand, even though it isn't my favorite period of art. Personal favorites included the tondos (circular paintings) of Botticelli (below) and Michelangelo's tondo of the Holy Family.

 The city was all it promised to be, and we're going back tomorrow for round 2.  What a city!

Botticelli's Tondo

Sunday Evening Community Choir Concert in Figline

There is nothing quite like a community music event.  The parts that happen outside of the actual musical numbers are usually as entertaining as what is happening on stage.  Tonight was no exception. It was a beautiful evening with cool, gentle breezes and not a cloud in the sky (right there you know we’re not in China).  They had a very ambitious program without an intermission, 90 minutes of popular Italian songs in the first half, and opera choruses, mostly Verdi with a little Macsagni. Bellini, and Puccini mixed in for variety. They sang as well as most community choruses sing, but as I age I appreciate more and more that, like me, they like to sing, and that’s enough.

But I digress….back to the fun stuff.  Let me introduce our first character. First they were doing a rather saucy number about the various lovers someone had.  [There was a large baritone who gave an introduction to each number in Italian and I could follow most of it by pretending he was speaking Spanish with a speech impediment.] During said number, in the beginning a very round blonde woman who was front and center began to wiggle her hips during the chorus.  There were several refrains so then she had to up the anti by hip bumping her neighbor the second time, who, after momentarily looking alarmed, joined in freely For the final chorus the lady gave her music to the woman next to her, turned her bottom to the audience, then proceed to spank herself in time with the music with a twinkle and a smile. young child in front of me sat up and immediately giggled, which made me want to laugh even more, but I was a guest so looked straight ahead and bit both cheeks.

Character #2: the stage manager/sound engineer.  A 30-40ish man with a bald head, protruding panza covered with a very tight white t-shirt and jean shorts. I know what he looked like because he took his place on stage to the left and center of the choir and conductor.  While on stage he paced back and forth, encouraged the conductor with a wink and applause from time to time, smoked, gulped some water and threw a little on his face, wiped his face with his tight t, exposing the tummy under it, etc.  At one point a beautiful butterfly entered the stage, and was enjoyable to watch as it flitted around.  It made the mistake of flitting on the head of the pianist (another character to yet enter our story) and he made a few frantic swipes at it.  At this point the “sound engineer” took some menacing steps toward it with a face that said “How dare you, I will end you.”  He moved around with such an omnious appearance he conjured up Tony Soprano readying to blow the butterfly to the next world.

Finally, the pianist.  Ahh, he provided delight for every number, but really got wound up during the operatic pieces.  This man was an excellent pianist, playing full-orchestra reductions for the opera pieces.  He also could have schooled Liberace on the art of dramatic gesticulation.  He looked like he was being shocked by the piano keys, he flew his arms around so quickly.  His page turning could also win some competition, specifically for the combination of speed and drama. While waiting for the conductor’s signs, he would crouch like a tiger about to strike. He had several moves in his repertoire and used them all to great effect.  My particular favorite was the “end the piece” move, in which he would wildly throw his arm back, and follow with a body slam against the chair to appear as if he’d been shot.  I caught a mild one on film, so have a look: 

Great, right???? You couldn’t pay for this kind of entertainment.  It was a great night of music, but an even greater night for humanity and humor.

The Butcher of Greve

At most airbnb places, the host leaves a book for guests to write their thanks in, and occasionally a recommendation.  The book at our rental has many recommendations, and one was to visit a very small town nearby, Greve, (20 minutes by car) to get some great steaks from the butcher at #45 on the main square.  The name of the establishment is Antica Macelleria Falorni. Today we made that pilgrimage, and we have already penned in another one for Saturday.  The town square is quaint and lovely and sleepy most of the time, until people come back from their vineyard walks.  While I was shopping at a ceramic place, daughter #2 rushed in to tell me I was going to feint or die when I visited the butcher shop, and she wanted to be there for the reaction.  I don’t think I disappointed her, as it would not be hyperbole to say I was overwhelmed. 

When you enter the shop you realize you are in the presence of greatness simply by the smell. the most delicious smell coming from meat I have had the pleasure of inhaling.  It’s right up there with “Butter Street” in Brussels. I walked through the many caves/rooms, trying to focus and regroup, but my basket remained empty.  How do you choose among or between the best of the best?  Yesterday we had gelato from a place in San Gimignano that claimed to have won the “World Cup of Gelato” but this place made no claims.  They didn’t need to, their products were doing the talking.  I immediately thought of the W. clan from Imogene, Des Moines and Omaha, who have their yearly ode to meat in the form of a “Happy Meat Night”, and wished I could have transported them for the day.  I’m not enough of a lover of meat to fully appreciate where I was standing, but they would have been.  The cheese cellar that featured about 7 varieties of pecorino, the specialty of the Chianti region, was another wave of great smells.  There was also a menu for lunch, which we are hoping to work our way through in the next 10 days.  Today we had the best slow-cooked pork I’ve eaten, along with my favorite bean, the cannellini (when I can’t get my beloved Mexican blacks.)  They had many small dishes, very moderated priced, that featured their products to great advantage.  We tried 7 or 8 and all were prepared with great integrity to showcase an incredible product. 

Perhaps the best non-meat thing in the shop is the “enomatic” machine and card.  There are 8 different wines from their cellars featured in the machine, and you put euros on the card, and stick it in the machine.  Next you choose which wine you want, and you have a choice of 3 quantities, around .7 euro for a testing swallow, and up from there to a proper glass.  We used ours down to the .04 euro.  I tried 4 different chiantis and they were all very good, but the highest price definitely was the winner.  Why is that always the case?  No matter.  Saturday there is a weekly market and a beer festival. I’ll be camping out at the butcher’s after I see what produce they have on offer. We may have to stay overnight, but we are training now to be ready for Saturday.  Cheers!

Pictures here for 3 small towns:  Greve, Volterra, and San Gimignano.